


Show Don't Tell

by loved_ice



Series: Prompts Galore [2]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:53:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loved_ice/pseuds/loved_ice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-connecting Tumblr prompts: Merwin edition! </p><p>Includes: Illness, cool Roxy, stripper cake, and a promise for more in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Merlin has plans for Eggsy and too much disease in him to act on any of them

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is another Tumblr prompt-holder area for my own peace of mind. This will be Merwin only, so you won't have to dig through for pairings or anything. I'll have separate works for Hartwin and miscellaneous if that's what you're interested in. 
> 
> If there's a prompt you end up liking a lot, let me know! Maybe I'll expand on it or make it a full fic if there's enough interest and I liked writing it enough. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them~ 
> 
> First prompt is from anonymous: Merlin/Eggsy: Merlin gets the flu and refuses to take time off of work to treat it (If you're accepting prompts and want this one?)
> 
> Warning: suicide of an OC mentioned

Contrary to the workaholic stereotype, Merlin is perfectly aware of the fact that he’s ill. He knows that his body is a cesspool of disease and one sneeze could infect the entire tech department. He recognizes that rest, medication, and (above all else) actually leaving HQ would be beneficial to not only him, but also everyone around him who’s had to listen to him cough and sniffle for days. 

He’s also perfectly aware of the fact that HQ would collapse if he left for anything longer than a trip to the loo. Immediately post-V-Day, Merlin had essentially enacted martial law. He called all the remaining agents back to base and had to force most of them to take leave and recommend therapy on account of the distress caused by being affected by the SIM cards. 

Most have been on their way to recovery for weeks, aside from Bors. 

(Bors had signed the paperwork for his retirement after killing his brother during the massacre, having been the only agent already on leave. Merlin kept the bugs on his house active for a week and watched the man get his affairs in order, occasionally sending free agents to check on him–He sent an ambulance long before he actually pulled out the gun, but in the end, it was too late. 

One of their best, reduced to a V-Day statistic. They were lucky enough to have no one killed in the massacre, as he trained them too well to be taken out by civilians or even the ham-fisted criminals they found on missions. The only losses they incurred were from the handful that sided with Chester and Bors’ guilt.) 

When it came to filling in the empty positions, it may have been superstitious but he couldn’t bring himself to let Eggsy take Bors’ mantle. Despite it being an open position, untainted by betrayal like so many of the others, and Eggsy giving less than half a fuck about the entire matter, these titles tend to absorb their history and he’d rather have Eggsy as a traitor to the organization than–Well, than have what happened to Bors happen to him.

He insisted on knighting him as Caradoc instead, knowing that asking him to take Galahad’s name would be insensitive at best.

(Besides, it’s downright creepy to see how much he looks like Harry when he’s in full Kingsman armor. Calling him Galahad would be asking for weird supernatural shit to happen.)

Even with Eggsy and Roxy filling in and exceeding expectations in what he should reasonably ask of them, Kingsman is severely hindered. It’s a small organization by necessity, with only Merlin and four other techs as “administration” and around fifteen agents at any given time. When they’re at full capacity, it’s a job for the workaholics and loners due to the high demand for their skills and low hiring rate. For Kingsman to be as successful as it is, there can’t be room for moles or politics. It’s a tight-knit group. Chester’s betrayal, while in hindsight fairly predictable and expected, was a shock. Caradoc and Lamorak joining him—Well, it’s all fodder under the title of “trust issues to discuss in therapy.”

Taking into account they’ve lost Harry, Chester, the former Caradoc, Lamorak, and Bors permanently, along with having Percival and two techs recovering from injuries in addition to Kay, Tristan, Gawain, Bedivere, and Ector remaining on leave until their psych evals come back clean, they have six available agents, two techs, and Merlin. Understandably, Merlin cannot take the time to nurse himself back to full health when they’re so short-staffed, and especially when no one else can do his job.

And until Eggsy returned from his latest mission, it hadn’t been a problem.

“Merl, please. You look like a fuckin’ wreck. You need to take a day off.” He’s holding the tissue box out of reach like the brat that he is. His travel bag, filled to burst, is by his dirt-covered shoes. He’s not exactly one to talk about looking like a wreck, seeing as his hair is singed and he has bruises piled on top of each other over his face. Merlin also knows, thanks to his glasses feed, that he’s missing a toe nail on his left foot, which must hurt like Hell. Instead of going to medical or resting himself, though, the brat’s bothering him. “C’mon, let me walk you home. Get you set up with some soup and OJ? Helena can handle this, can’t she?”

“Please do me a favor and fuck off, Eggsy,” Merlin snaps. With his head throbbing, his throat feeling like a cat raked their claws down it, and everything aching in the worst way, it is much, much harder to ignore the siren call of home than it was at the beginning of the day. He finally stands up and snatches the tissues out of Eggsy’s hand, pretending not to notice how he wobbles in place. Eggsy pointedly steadies him by grabbing his shoulder. After blowing his nose and adding to the disgusting pile of used Kleenex, he adds exasperatedly, “She’s busy, I’m busy—We’re all fucking busy. I can’t leave right now.”

“You said that yesterday! And according to Rox, you said that the day before too!” Eggsy’s lips are pressed together tightly. “I know there’s a lot to do, but you was workin’ nonstop for weeks after all that shit with Valentine. You’re caught up enough that a day or two off ain’t gonna hurt. You’re killin’ yourself, bruv.”

“I’m fine.” He sits down quickly and spins his chair to face his monitor. “Back off.”

Eggsy crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “When was the last time you actually went home, Merl? Have you slept at all lately? What about food, bruv, have you eaten? And showers, god, you smell positively rank. Do you remember what they are? The nice private waterfall you got in your house in that place with a toilet—“

“Now you’re just being mean, Eggsy. What would Harry say? ‘Gentlemen don’t rudely pressure their friends’ or some nonsense like that, I imagine,” He says viciously. It’s a low blow. Far too soon for either of them because even saying Harry’s name has his chest aching. Or that might be the cold hindering is ability to breathe again.

Eggsy, surprisingly, doesn’t snap back or storm off. He grabs the back of Merlin’s chair and spins him back to facing Eggsy, who crouches down to eye-level. “That’s it though. We’re friends, Merl. ‘m worried ‘bout you. You look awful, bruv.” He looks so earnest, those green puppy dog eyes meeting Merlin’s without hesitation.

Merlin sighs. He scrubs a hand over his face and leans back in his seat. “Look, Eggsy, believe me. I’d like nothing more than to curl up and sleep for a day with crap telly on.” He grabs blindly behind him for the tablet on his desk, pulling up a pages-long list. “But this is the shit I have to get through today. And this is the shit I have to deal with tomorrow. And this is the shit I have to deal with before the week is out. And this is the shit I have to deal with if I ever want to be able to take a break again.” He scrolls through and punctuates each sentence with a jab at the screen. “I can’t leave. None of us can, and you know it. Why are you even here? Go sleep in the barracks before I have to send you out again, I’m about to assign missions after I finish this algorithm. Stop bothering me with shit I’m already aware of.”

Eggsy’s jaw clenches visibly for a split second. He nods after letting out a long breath. “Alright. I got it.” He digs through his duffel bag and pulls out a paper bag to plop onto Merlin’s desk. It lands with a heavier thud than Merlin expected. “Figured you wouldn’t listen. At least eat and take some medicine, yeah?” He shrugs his travel bag onto his shoulder and leaves before Merlin can respond.

There’s an ongoing rumor that Merlin is the mother of Kingsman, making sure no one dies in the field or forgets their toothbrush. It is a rumor that is complete horseshit.

Because Merlin would never in a million years pack a bag lunch for anyone. He would never go out of his way to buy medicine and pack it away with two sandwiches, a small thermos of soup, and a half-crushed piece of cake for someone.

Not only would Merlin never do that, but he would certainly never still give it all to someone who just spent ten minutes bitching at him for being concerned.

“Nice job, Reginald,” He lets his forehead fall to his desk. “Really. You’re the epitome of social grace.”

Because he’s not a dickhead, he texts Eggsy a quick apology and thanks. He receives, “no prob but plz go home & sleep ur so sick”.

Tactfully, he ignores that one to open the thermos and go back to work.

In a kind world, that would be the end of it. Merlin would slowly recover while keeping Kingsman afloat, until he finally got to go home and sleep for eight hours, at which point he would awaken and feel refreshed and healthy once more. He would thank Eggsy again for his concern but ultimately prove that he knows his limits. This would allow him to finally have some of the agents return and have the least mentally-adjusted one take over the Arthurian duties Merlin has taken over since Chester’s demise.

Predictably, the world has no such mercy.

He startles awake at his desk and jerks to a sitting position, causing the dredges of his tea to spill over his personal tablet. For a moment, he sits there and tries to figure out why he woke so abruptly. His head is fuzzier than when he fell asleep and everything aches miserably. He turns dazedly when a hand tugs on his shoulder.

“Hey Merl,” Eggsy—It has to be, since he’s the only one who shortens a name that’s already a nickname— says gently. His hand tightens on his shoulder. “Thanks for gettin’ all dolled up for me. Really, it’s flatterin’ that you put on that nice shade of green for me.”

“Please,” he croaks, holding out a hand. “Shut up and hand me the bin.”

Eggsy helpfully shoves it at Merlin, who proceeds to puke for the first time in at least three years. There’s a hand rubbing his back and another mopping his brow while he gags and eventually falls into a dry heaving fit once there’s nothing left.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not that my soup looks about the same comin’ up as it did goin’ down,” Eggsy muses. “First time makin’ chicken noodle, see. Mum and Dais like tomato soup better when they’re sick but I figured you’d like the normal shit.”

“It wasn’t half-bad,” Merlin responds hoarsely. He clears his throat and groans lightly when Eggsy’s cool hand presses against his forehead. “A little salty.”

“High praise.” Eggsy chuckles. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen here. My buddy Jamal’s bein’ hazed by our other techs as we speak. He needs some extra cash and is insanely good with computer stuff. They’re usin’ him for grunt work so you all ain’t gotta waste your time with that shit anymore. Don’t worry about security, they got it and Jamal’s a good guy, he won’t ask questions.

“The rest of your stuff has been delegated and Rox is gonna help with it. She’s got some background in IT that Helena said they can work with. When the other knights get back, they’re gonna help too. For right now, we’re not gonna take any missions until we have enough agents available. We’re killin’ ourselves this way and someone’s gonna die if we keep sendin’ everyone out half-cocked. The world’s fairly stable, it’ll be fine without Kingsman policin’ for a couple of days.”

Merlin nods tiredly. “Fair enough.”

Eggsy keeps rubbing a hand across Merlin’s back. “Now for me and you, here’s what we’re gonna do. ‘Cause I know you must be feelin’ well awful, yeah?” He gives another, tired nod. “Right then. I’m gonna take you home and put you to bed so you actually sleep. How’s that sound?”

Merlin jolts when Eggsy pats his face lightly. “What?”

“’m gonna take you home now. That okay Merl?” Eggsy asks softly. His hand is blissfully cool against Merlin’s face as it cups his cheek and forces him to look into Eggsy’s eyes. “I’ll take you home and get you nice and comfy in bed. Is that okay?”

Blearily, he nods once more before tipping forward. Eggsy winces a little when their heads collide, but Merlin sighs in relief at the cool contact with his flushed face. With his forehead leaning against Eggsy’s, he hums an, “Mm-hm.”

“Good. Awesome. We should get goin’ then.” He pauses when Merlin doesn’t move. “Shit, you fallin’ asleep already? Couldn’t you’ve done this when Roxy was here to take a pic, I bet we look fuckin’ adorable right now. Fuck you, bruv, now I ain’t got shit to mess with you after this.”

The next time Merlin wakes up, the world is bouncing and not helping his headache at all. He burrows into the warmth underneath him and clings tighter, muttering angrily until the bouncing stops.

“Sorry bruv. Your stairs are weirdly steep, y’know.”

With that, Merlin’s world tilts and he’s rolled into the soft familiarity of his own bed. He curls around his pillow immediately and sighs, bordering on gleeful over being horizontal and comfortable for the first time in days. Eggsy, the blessedly kind and wonderful boy, pulls the covers over him and tucks them underneath him, slipping a pillow under Merlin’s head and pushing at him until he’s in the middle of the bed and unlikely to roll off in his sleep.

“There we go. ‘S that better?” Eggsy asks. Merlin doesn’t need to see him to visualize the pleased grin he’s sporting. He doesn’t mean it mockingly, the question or the smile. He’s probably genuinely thrilled that Merlin is comfortable and finally letting himself be taken care of.

“You’re awfully adorable like this,” Merlin grumbles, sniffing loudly. “It’s making me sick.”

“Already sick, Merl.”

“Sicker, then. You’re in your natural element. Why the fuck do you kill people for a living?”

Eggsy laughs. “C’mon, bruv. Get some shuteye. I’ll bring you water and some meds to take when you wake up.”

“Mm, wait a minute.” Merlin shuffles until he’s facing Eggsy, who obediently waits at his side. “Lean over—I’m not gonna spit in your face, c’mon.” Eggsy does so, and Merlin leans up to press their foreheads together again. “I’m going to say this once. Only once. Got it?” Their eyes meet, closer than is even remotely acceptable considering the work hierarchy they’re part of. Eggsy doesn’t seem to mind, so Merlin carries on.

“Got it.”

Softly, Merlin says, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

At Eggsy’s sudden blush, he grins wickedly and can’t help himself—The urge to take this a step farther is overwhelming.  
“You’re a good lad for me, aren’t ye? Taking care of me even after I was a right prick to you. I do appreciate it, Eggsy.”

Eggsy gulps. Reddens further. Stammers out, “Y-yeah bruv. Anytime. Uh. Yeah. I’ll uh.” Swallows again, and Merlin’s grin widens. “Yeah.” 

It’s a disappointment to have Eggsy’s cool skin leave his overheated body when he bolts out and lets the door slam behind him. On the bright side, if Merlin can remember the hazy encounter after he recovers he’ll be able to show Eggsy his gratitude properly now that the boy’s shown appropriate interest.

He coughs into his pillow with a wince. “Getting a little ahead of yourself there, Merlin,” He murmurs quietly.

* * * *

A handful of minutes later, Eggsy returns with a glass of water and a cool flannel. Gently, he deposits the glass to his bedside table and waits a couple of seconds, watching Merlin breathe. And when he’s absolutely certain Merlin’s asleep—he leans over and presses a careful, delicate kiss to his forehead before covering it with the cloth. He bolts from the room again, face flushed all over again.


	2. In which a sex toy is named and Roxy is unbelievably fond of her best mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous: 
> 
> Kingsman Prompt: asexual homoromantic roxy laughing at merwin shenanigans please

“Oh no,” Roxy grabs Eggsy’s collar, dragging him away from the desk. “We need to work. You can blow Merlin later–” 

“Rox!” 

“Does that mean you won’t?” Merlin frowns. For having no hair, he somehow always manages to give off a “sex hair” vibe. His red lips, the stretched collar that’s irreparable, and his blown pupils are oddly obvious for a man who normally gives away nothing. “But it’s my birthday.” 

“It is not.” 

“Could be.” 

“’s not.” Eggsy sings, stumbling when Roxy jerks him harder. “Okay, alright, sorry. On my way. Back later, babe!” He calls just as Roxy slams the door shut. 

“Seriously, Eggsy, we need to work on this assignment. Arthur’s being a right prick about it.” She keeps dragging him, stopping abruptly when he digs his heels in. “What?” 

“The Moroccan thing?” Eggsy asks, confused. 

“Yes. What other assignment are we doing together?” She responds slowly. She adores Eggsy, but he’s notoriously bad at actually doing work outside of missions. Especially since he and Merlin got their heads out of their asses and started dating. They’re adorable, but Roxy knows they’ll already be up all night trying to finish this crap and they don’t have time for him to fuck around with Merlin. “We need to finish. I’m already looking to sell our tickets, there’s no way we’re making the concert when we have this to finish.” 

“Don’t sell our tickets!” Eggsy yelps. “I thought I told you I got Merl to finish it for us so we can go tonight.” He snatches her tablet off of her desk, tapping through it to the paperwork section. “Just sign off on it and we’re good.” 

She stares. “Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, see, there was no way we’d be able to finish it in time to go out with the way Arthur’s acting,” Eggsy says, nudging her with the stylus. “So I told Merl if he did the rest of it for us I’d let him use the Devastator on me. And that man can go when he’s properly motivated. Took him two hours flat.” He waits for a reaction, and when he doesn’t get one, adds, “It was kinda hot. For me, I mean. You’d be impressed by the efficiency though.” 

Roxy has a conscience. She does. Normally, she would be infuriated and delete the work so they could do it themselves and she could have a guilt-free night of work. She takes pride in her work at Kingsman and wants to do her best. Trusting anyone else to do her work isn’t in her wiring. 

However, the new Arthur is a dickhead. Racist, sexist, classist–Any kind of prejudice a man could have, he has. Which means Roxy and Eggsy end up with the shitty missions and the worst assignments. Because he’s a dickhead. 

And she is a big enough woman to admit that Merlin is smarter than her and Eggsy combined. Which means Arthur won’t find a single fault in the report. And she and Eggsy can have their night off for the first time since V-Day. 

She tilts her head. “I’m not sure if I’m more disturbed by the fact you didn’t tell me this the moment it happened or that I know your couple name for Merlin’s favorite sex toy.” 

He grins. “So, gonna sign anytime soon? Me and you can go get dolled up after that.” 

Roxy applies her signature, a sharp thing that’s barely legible. “Should I be thanking you for your sacrifice? Last time you couldn’t walk for a week.” 

Eggsy gives her a thumbs up. “Y’know, it’s a hardship, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willin’ to make. For the greater good, of course.” 

“You’re a pure martyr. Truly, Jesus weeps in sympathy.” 

He shrieks with laughter, and she maintains her composure for about three seconds before collapsing into giggles as well. 

They do make sure to walk by Merlin’s so Eggsy can give him a proper goodbye. 

”I can see your tongues from over here. You’re disgusting. Really, I can’t believe I’m witnessing this.” 

Her disgust would be more believable if she wasn’t giggling and if Eggsy hadn’t stopped the kiss to go out of his way to be obviously disgusting. Merlin, a true saint, puts up with Eggsy licking his face for longer than anyone reasonably should. 

He finally shoves Eggsy out of his lap and says, “Go on, get. Go act your age for once. Call me when you inevitably need a ride home. Puke before you get in the car. You know the rules.” 

“The best, Merl,” Eggsy says, sprawled on the floor. He jumps back up and kisses Merlin’s cheek. “That’s what you are. The absolute best.” 

“You’re sleeping outside if you puke in my presence. Understand?” 

Eggsy waves him off and goes to leave, laughing when Merlin smacks his arse. “Ooh, yeah baby. Save that for later, Daddy~” 

“Never say that again. Get out, I can’t look at you.” Merlin covers his face while Roxy’s laughter escalates into wheezing giggles. 

She gets her breath back and tosses out a, “Thanks Merlin! Appreciate it.” before jogging to catch up to Eggsy. Merlin yells something unintelligible, but Eggsy must understand because he flushes red out of nowhere. “That must be good.” 

He claps her on the back. “Rox, you listen to me yak about a lot of stuff you don’t care about, but I respect you too much to tell you what that means.” 

She snorts. “Fair enough.” After a moment, she hesitantly asks, “So did I tell you that I have a second date with Nat?” 

Pointedly, Roxy doesn’t look over. She can imagine Eggsy gaping at her. “For real? Rox, that’s great! You really liked her, didn’t you? Second date’ll go even better I reckon. Where you gonna go?” 

She shrugs. “I was hoping you could help me think of things. We went somewhere posh last time so I want to downgrade a bit. Get her to loosen up, yeah?” 

“Gotcha. We’ll talk about it.” He eyes her, then says, “There’s something else. What is it, Pop-Rox?” 

Roxy climbs into the shuttle first, rolling her shoulders as she collapses into her seat. The door slides shut, nearly on the back of Eggsy’s jacket. “She texted me the other day, said she found my dating profile. The one that actually said I’m ace, not the dummy one I used awhile back.” 

Eggsy gives her a sympathetic wince. “And?” 

Roxy shrugs. “She didn’t really say anything. Just told me it was a good picture of me and sorry for creeping around online for me.” 

They’re quiet for a bit. She adds, with a slight hint of despair, “I really like her, Eggsy.” 

Eggsy leans forward in his seat and takes her hands. He squeezes them until she squeezes back. “Listen, Rox. From what you told me, Nat seemed cool. She sounds like she’s not a moron. And if she’s not a moron, it won’t be a problem. And if she is a moron, you don’t need her. We’ll find you someone better.” 

She nods with a sigh. “It’s frustrating.” 

“I know. I mean, I don’t, not first hand, but I know. You know?” 

She snorts. “Yeah, I know. It’d just be easier if I lie back and think of England, I know, but I’m sick of it.” 

“Just be yourself. You ain’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna and it’s not on you to make her understand that if she don’t already.” Eggsy frowns. “Don’t pretend. You deserve better than that.” 

The shuttle comes to a halt. The door slides open, but Eggsy holds her in place. 

“Seriously, Rox. You do. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you or what you want. Got me?” 

Eggsy can be a scatterbrained idiot. He’s obsessed with his boyfriend and easily distracted, not to mention he messes up missions thanks to his overly sensitive morals. Sometimes, she wants to scream at him until he’s as hardened as the rest of the agents. 

But in situations like this, he’s perfect. She knows he’s the best friend she could ask for. He takes care of her and she takes care of him. It’s the healthiest friendship she’s ever had. 

She smiles. “Yeah. I got you. Thank you.” 

“Anytime. C’mon, I gotta pick up more lube on the way home. You left your outfit for tonight at my place, yeah? So we can just head there?” 

“Got it in one. You’re just getting generic, right? Your strawberry flavor is only at the place on the last tube stop and I won’t have enough time to do my makeup if we’re stopping there.” 

“Damn. Generic’s fine then.”


	3. In which Eggsy is the most competent party planner in existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous: 
> 
> Merwin prompt: Eggsy goes undercover to figure out Merlin's birthday so he could properly surprise him come the special day. When it happens, Merlin is a combination of angry and confused, but mostly confused because of the stripper that popped out of the birthday cake

The problem with Merlin being the “tech guy” is that Eggsy has no way to access his records. No way to see if he has any allergies or has a middle name or, most importantly, when his birthday is. 

Merlin, prick that he is, won’t say a word about his personal life. 

“It’s unprofessional,” He says. 

“It doesn’t matter if I’m allergic to anything,” He says. 

“Do not–Why do you even care what my middle name is? Get back to work,” He says. 

“Stop asking, Eggsy,” He says. 

“’Stop askin’,’ he says. ‘Get on the plane,’ he says. ‘Drop it, you’ll never find it,’ he says. Like I ain’t got other ways.” Eggsy mocks quietly. He adjusts the purse he borrowed from Roxy and steps through the door, winking at the man holding the door for him. “Thanks luv, ‘preciate it.” He adds, grinning widely. The man blushes and–Well, that’s cute. Not who he’s set his eye on, but he’s cute. 

Eggsy clicks forward, certain that even with the slight wavering he looks confident and certain. High heels aren’t conducive for most spy work, but this isn’t official business–And Eggsy’s curious, sue him. Kill two birds with one stone–Explore something he’s been curious about for ages but was unable to do anything about while living with Dean and get Merlin’s birth certificate. 

Thanks to a large bill at the pub and Percival (”Call me Matt, Kay, we’ve drank half the pub under the fucking table and I think–I’m pretty sure that means we can be on first-names, yeah?” “Yeah bruv. So it’s Eggsy then for you.” “Eggy-Eggsy-Egg. What a name. Lil’ strange.” “So’s your face.”) being a lightweight, he has Merlin’s last name. He was lucky enough to find out from Roxy where he’s from, thanks to a careless comment from Merlin about his childhood. 

Because Eggsy is a worldly, intelligent agent, he can work with that. 

So Eggsy smiles, flips the hair of his wig, and flirts his way to victory. 

(Well, he doesn’t really flirt his way to victory. It’s more like he flirts, fails, starts crying and making the filer feel guilty, and then leaves triumphantly with mascara-stained cheeks and a manila folder. 

Also: Who would’ve guessed that his middle name is Reginald?) 

The new problem, though, is that victory means he knows Merlin’s birthday. Which is three days away. One of those days will be spent flying back home, which leaves him with only two days to plan something suitable for the trouble Eggsy’s gone through. 

He swipes at the black mess that’s on his face, then pulls out his phone. Dialing a familiar number, he grins lightly, “Oi, Jamal? Need a favor, bruv. Your cousin busy on Friday? Nah mate, Layla.” 

— 

Roxy volunteers her help with glee. His reign during training is still fresh in both of their minds, and Roxy still hasn’t forgiven him for pairing him with Rufus repeatedly ( “To get you used to misogynistic pricks, Ms. Morton,” He explained with a sly grin. “You’ll be getting a decent amount of shit from the older crowd if you become Lancelot. Plus, you’re the only one who can keep that arse in line.”)

Because Roxy has Matt wrapped around her little finger, he spontaneously has extreme problems with a delicate situation involving a Russian ambassador on one of the top floors. They have approximately twenty minutes to get everything set up in the lab, where other techs gleefully assist in the preparation. Ector, in particular, is thrilled to be put on streamer duty. 

“Where do you want the cake?” Roxy asks, shoving it through the doorway. “And did it need to be this big? The office’ll be eating cake for months, jesus.” 

“Front and center, Rox.” Eggsy directs with both arms, grinning madly. “Away from anything tech-y, though. Don’t wanna get that stuff messy.” 

She gives him a confused glance but complies. 

Because they’re not morons, they won’t turn off the lights, jump out, and surprise him. That’d be asking for a bullet to the brain. 

Instead, Eggsy has given everyone packets of confetti to toss when he walks in. (And because Eggsy isn’t a prick, he is taking full responsibility for clean-up duty since it was his idea. Roxy might make Matt help him too, which would be awesome, but he won’t bank on it.) A handful of them have noisemakers as well that they can use AFTER Merlin can see them–For not being an active agent, he can be extremely trigger-happy. 

Eggsy barely has everything situated the way he wants it when Matt and Merlin walk through the door, Merlin berating Matt loudly– “Really, do I need to send you to one of those senior-citizen help seminars? We’ve been using these systems for years, Percival!” 

“Mmhm.” Matt picks at a hangnail. “Hello, Eggsy.” 

“Matt, how goes it?” Eggsy’s grin is wide. “Merlin, happy birthday.” 

Merlin stares. He asks, “What the fuck have you done to my lab?” at the same moment Roxy dumps her packet of confetti over his head and the others throw theirs into the air. He sputters and Eggsy’s grin, impossibly, widens further. “It isn’t even my birthday–” 

“Liar~” Eggsy sings. Eyes gleaming wickedly, he holds up the manila folder he fought for, going up to hand it to him. “Shoulda just told me, bruv. I got ways.” 

Ector is recording the entire thing, because he’s a dad and his wife has instilled in him a love for home videos. Eggsy will pay him to get one, because Merlin’s face right now–red, with twitching eyes and jaw clenched–needs to be framed. Immortalized forever. It’s beautiful. 

The other techs are cheering and singing already, foreseeing a day off whether Merlin surrenders gracefully or not. 

“Now! You get to cut the cake–Sorry, I don’t make the rules, it’s your cake so you have to.” 

“Will you all go away if I do so?” He grits out. Eggsy slaps his back and grins, handing him the plastic knife. “You’re lucky this is flimsy. I should gut you, fucking cheeky brat–” 

He doesn’t even make the first cut when Layla, in all of her birthday-inspired get up glory, jumps up and sends cake flying everywhere. Merlin shrieks, goes for his gun (which Eggsy nicked while handing him his birth certificate–He’s not a moron, after all), and stumbles backwards into Roxy. 

“What the actual– Are you–What?” He turns to Eggsy, who’s roaring with laughter. Layla, grinning and beckoning Merlin forward, also seems to be smothering laughter. The rest of the agents have relaxed and discretely put away their weapons, now laughing as well. Ector, the best co-host Eggsy never asked for, starts passing around beer and plates of the actual cake. “Why.” 

“Happy birthday! Turnin’ fifty’s a milestone, bruv. Ain’t legit without a stripper cake.” Eggsy gives Layla a high-five. “Don’t worry, she agreed to be amnesia darted after and I paid her yesterday so we’re good.” 

Layla winks at Merlin, who’s face is eerily blank. “Eggsy, lovely boy that he is, also paid for a dance. Interested, luv?” She leans forward, licking her lips. Nimue, Merlin’s direct boss, is already on her second beer and grins in their general direction. She gives Eggsy a thumbs-up, which he returns giddily. 

Merlin coughs, looks away. “I’m gay. No thank you.” 

Eggsy’s face lights up. It’s Christmas and his birthday, wrapped into one. He vaguely hears Roxy ask, “So if he doesn’t want the dance, can I take it?” and waves her off. Merlin looks dumbfounded, his eyes flickering between Eggsy and the spattered cake on the ground. 

“So. Guess I’ll have to rethink my gift then, yeah?” Eggsy stalks forward, grinning predatorily when Merlin backs up, and backs up, and backs up straight into a wall. He gets in close–real close, because this is an absolutely perfect day and he’s going to take a chance–and smooths the shoulders of Merlin’s cardigan. His fingers linger, trailing down his arms and feeling the muscles tense underneath the fabric. “Got an alternative in mind. Need somewhere a lil’ more private, though. More appropriate that way, innit?” Eggsy smiles, slow and wide, when Merlin’s eyes dart to his lips, dart to his eyes, then go back to his lips and stay. “How’s that sound, birthday boy?” 

It’s very, very silent. 

“Are you wearing lip gloss?” Merlin blurts. The pained expression that covers his face shows how much he didn’t mean to say that. It’s cute–The man’s obviously extremely off-balance, and it seems like this is the truest responses he’s ever gotten from the man. “It–Ah, it looks nice. If you are. Are you?” His eyes gleam with poorly concealed interest. 

Eggsy’s smile grows even more salacious. 

“Want to find out?” 

(Merlin does. It’s peach flavored.) 

(Merlin’s birthday, from that year on, becomes the official “Kingsman Office Party”. They let Layla keep her memories and she comes every year.)


End file.
